“In a system too often defined by inertia, Romualdez is making a risky bet: that change can come not from revolution, but from responsibility”
IN A country fatigued by political theater and rhetorical excess, Speaker Ferdinand Martin Romualdez did something unusual last week: he offered not just promises, but purpose.
“This House must not be a refuge of privilege,” he declared in his July 29 address. “It must be the pillar of the everyday Filipino.”
That’s not a typical line from a political insider – especially not one who hails from one of the most prominent families in Philippine politics.
But in this address, Romualdez sounded less like a dynasty’s caretaker and more like a reformer trying to redeem the institution he leads.
The heart of his agenda lies in three ambitious proposals: food security, universal healthcare, and budget transparency.
None are easy lifts. All carry the weight of history – and past failures.
But Romualdez is betting that boldness, backed by institutional know-how, can succeed where past reforms collapsed.
Feeding a hungry Republic
The proposed Rice Industry and Consumer Empowerment (RICE) Act is a direct response to the country’s most visceral problem: hunger.
The plan tackles smuggling, hoarding, and price manipulation – practices that have distorted the market and hollowed out farmer incomes.
Alongside this, Romualdez aims to institutionalize the Walang Gutom Program through monthly electronic food credits under the 2026 budget.
It’s a daring mix of economic modernization and digital welfare.
The challenge, of course, will be execution.
Past agricultural policies failed due to weak enforcement and elite capture.
Romualdez must ensure that the digital food credit system doesn’t become another leaky pipeline for corruption or exclusion.
Still, his framing is clear: food is not charity; it is a right. “In a land of hardworking farmers,” he said, “no Filipino should go hungry.” That moral clarity is hard to ignore.
Health without fear
Romualdez’s call for zero billing in government hospitals is perhaps the boldest promise in the speech – and the most contentious.
Critics will ask where the money will come from. PhilHealth, already running a deficit, cannot shoulder universal coverage without major fiscal surgery.
Yet Romualdez is not blind to these realities.
He couples his promise with a plan to modernize rural health facilities, deploy more health workers, and expand access to essential medicine.
He seems to understand that universality means nothing if it doesn’t reach the far-flung barangay or the urban slum.
He’s also hinting at smart financing: leveraging sin taxes, streamlining procurement, and tying subsidies to performance. These aren’t fully fleshed-out mechanisms – but they’re more than just applause lines.
They’re signs that Romualdez wants to move from aspirational slogans to implementable solutions.
A budget people can believe in
Where Romualdez may make his deepest institutional mark is in budget reform.
His proposal to open bicameral conferences to civil society observers and televise budget debates is a radical shift from the opacity of Philippine fiscal politics.
He’s not just promising transparency; he’s building scaffolding for it – real-time reporting of government projects, mandatory contractor standards, and a national infrastructure audit framework.
In a country where “pork” has long warped public trust, this is more than cosmetic reform. It’s an attempt to rewire Congress itself.
Skeptics point to Romualdez’s role in previous budget controversies.
That’s fair. But it’s also what makes this pivot so meaningful.
Sometimes, the best reformers are those who know where the bones are buried – and decide to dig them up anyway.
A leader for the moment
Romualdez is no outsider. But perhaps that’s his greatest strength.
He knows the gears of the institution he seeks to fix. He has the coalition, the timing, and – if this speech is to be believed – the will.
His vision borrows smartly from international best practices: Thailand’s universal healthcare, South Korea’s open-budget platform, Brazil’s conditional food credits. But what distinguishes him is not imitation – it’s adaptation.
He’s trying to translate global models into the messy, hopeful language of Filipino democracy.
Yes, the risks are real: budget constraints, entrenched interests, public cynicism. But so is the opportunity – to reclaim governance as a tool for justice, not patronage.
In a system too often defined by inertia, Romualdez is making a risky bet: that change can come not from revolution, but from responsibility.
And that, in itself, is a quiet kind of courage.
